Farm Fresh
by Theawkward1
Summary: Sam asks Dean to help him out at the Farmers' Market.
1. Summer

The farmers' market was not Dean Winchester's favorite place. He especially didn't want to spend his Saturday morning – the only day he really got to sleep in – getting up at the asscrack of dawn to spend his morning with the crunchy granola types that congregated there. But, Sam had turned on the puppy eyes and Dean had caved. Apparently, Sam needed help setting up this week because Kevin, the kid who normally helped him, was going to be gone on some kind of university mathlete competition. The whole thing was ridiculous.

So here Dean was, bleary eyed and cranky, helping Sam set out the homemade shampoos and conditioners and other body care items Sam made. They'd had to get up before the sun to make it to the market in time to get everything set up before opening time. Dean hadn't even gotten a chance to grab breakfast or a cup of coffee. And Dean really, really, really needed coffee. With feeling.

He mentioned as much to Sam, who replied with, "When we get all set up, I'll take you around and introduce you to everyone. Gabriel brings donuts and stuff usually. I'm sure you could get something from him."

Dean set the last bottle on the table and carried the stack of empty boxes back to where the Impala was parked next to Sam's truck. When he made his way back to Sam's booth, he took his time. Noticing the vendors weren't only selling fruits and vegetables like he had thought they would be.

A few booths down, a red-headed chick was selling homemade t-shirts, coffee mugs, pins and other assorted fandom wares. There was a psychic set up at the end of the row, another booth with an older man seated inside next to buckets of every flower known to man, and a blonde girl nearby selling handmade jewelry. There were several stalls spread throughout displaying seasonal fruits and vegetables, dried and fresh herbs, grass fed beef, and some even had plants and farm-fresh chicken eggs.

When he finally got back to the booth, Sam was just finishing hanging the sign. Brushing his hands off on his jeans, Sam looks over at Dean," Ready to make the rounds?"

"Sure thing Gigantor," Dean answers, smart assed grin firmly in place. Dean shrugs out of his leather jacket and tosses it into the lawn chair set up next to the display table. The sun was really starting to warm up the morning air.

Sam walked all the way to the end of the row.

"This is Missouri," he says, stopping at the psychic's booth, with a nod and a smile. "She is eerily accurate." He adds under his breath as they walk away.

Dean sneaks a glance at the round faced, brown skinned woman with knowing eyes, and a beautiful smile. "Seriously, Sam?" he scoffs, "You know I don't believe any of that woo-woo stuff."

Sam just shrugs and says, "You'll see." He stops next at the flower seller. "This is Joshua. He brings the most beautiful flowers every week. And this is Jo," he adds, after they walk a few more feet down the aisle, stopping in front of the jewelry booth. "Her work is amazing."

After Sam and Jo exchange a quick greeting, they continue towards the red-headed girl's booth. "Charlie makes all of this stuff herself." Sam says, indicating the array of items representing popular tv shows, movies and books. "You will probably love her booth. She is even more obsessed with pop culture than you are." Dean grins at Charlie, who is wearing a shirt that reads 'Hermione is my spirit animal.' She gives him the Vulcan salute, and they walk on.

The next stop, at one of the larger fruit and veggie displays, appears to be the home of a guy with the most fantastic mullet Dean has seen in years.

"This is Ash," Sam gestures towards Mullet Man. "He has a farm outside of town. Ash likes to live off the grid. He has some pretty crazy conspiracy theories. Cool guy to talk to."

Directly next to Ash's booth is a small stand advertising farm fresh eggs and a table with a cage housing a brown hen. Standing behind the stand is the skinniest, most innocent looking man Dean has ever seen.

"Hey Garth, How's it going?" Sam asks as they walk by. Garth nods back and answers. As soon as they are out of earshot, Sam adds, quietly, "Garth is probably the nicest person you will ever meet. But he does have a tendency to refer to the hens as 'his ladies'. It's a little weird, but he's perfectly harmless."

Passing a few more stalls, they stop at the one nearest Sam's. There is an array of breads, cakes, rolls, cookies, pies and other baked awesomeness spread out on the tables under the white awning.

"Hey Gabe," Sam calls to the small man standing inside the booth, wearing a white apron. "He's the one I was telling you about."

"Talking about me are you?" Gabe shoots back. If Dean didn't know better, he would think the guy was flirting with Sam. He pauses for a few moments, looking back and forth between the two. Finally, Sam's dopey grin gives him away. Dean turns, with a smirk and faces Sam, Dean's back towards Gabe, before saying, "Dude, he's like three feet shorter than you."

Sam just blushes and turns away, walking back to his booth. Dean purchases an enormous cinnamon roll and a cup of coffee from Gabriel, before heading back to Sam. Smiling to himself, Dean takes a giant bite of cinnamon roll and slouches down into his folding chair. Looking across the aisle, towards the opposite row of booths, Dean almost chokes.

"Whosat?" He manages to garble around the mouthful of cinnamon goodness, inclining his head towards the tent directly across from Sam's. A guy was setting up his booth. His hair was slightly too long, dark brown, and stuck up all around his head like he had just been thoroughly fucked. He had two days' worth of dark stubble shadowing his jaw, ratty jeans, and a well-worn t-shirt with some kind of slogan about bees on it. The guy was busy setting out jars of various sizes of dark golden honey. He even had educational signs about bees and beekeeping set up around his booth. He was also Dean's version of sex on a stick. Damn.

Sam looked across, to the tent, absently. "That's Castiel, he sells honey. He's also Gabe's little brother."

Maybe working at a farmers' market wouldn't be so bad after all.


	2. Autumn

"Sam, if you start going on about the smell of old records again, I'm going to punch you in the fucking face. Seriously, have some control of yourself. Goddam giant hipster." Dean muttered the last part under his breath as he took the change from the vendor selling hot dogs, pretzels, and sodas and shoved it into his jeans pocket before grabbing the cup from the cart in the hand the wasn't holding a paper wrapped pretzel.

"You're one to talk. You only listen to freaking cassette tapes from 30 years ago." Sam tugged the beanie down self-consciously before tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. The afternoon was crisp and clear, carrying the first scents and smells of autumn. The heavy thud of their boots was muffled by the sound of the busy downtown area and the customers perusing the market stalls.

"Dude, every band you listen to has weird facial hair and fedoras." Dean was quiet for a moment, pausing to take a giant bite of the pretzel. After slurping from the straw of his paper cup, he dives right back in. "And ukuleles. Why the fuck are all these bands including ukuleles? Whatever happened to guitars and drums and a keyboard. That's awesome music."

Sam rolled his eyes and headed towards the honey vendor, "Shut up, Dean. Why don't you start yelling at neighborhood kids to get off your lawn. You sound like a grandpa. "

Dean stood in the center of the path between the two rows of before stalls and stuffed more pretzel in his mouth. He watched Sam walk over and start talking animatedly with Castiel. Stupid, attractive, probably commune escapee Castiel; who had driven Dean insane all summer while he puttered around his honey stall, giving straws of honey to little kids who were shopping with their parents, smiling a giant grin that caused the corners of his eyes to wrinkle delectably while he talked to their parents, wore jeans that were so worn they were see through at the knees and t-shirts that clung to his chest and arms in the summer humidity, all while generally acting like Dean didn't exist the entire summer.

The market season would be over soon. Apples from local orchards were filling bushel baskets piled onto tables, pumpkins and gourds were becoming the hot commodity, and everything Gabe was selling recently was pumpkin spice flavored. Dean would know, he had gained five pounds since he started coming up with excuses to help Sam with his booth every weekend. Not that it had done Dean any good. The only thing he had done all summer was sit behind Sam's booth and sell ridiculously expensive hair shit to people while he stared moon-eyed across the way.

Sam handed Castiel some cash in exchange for a few jars of honey. Dean sucked the last of his soda through the straw and threw the pretzel paper and cup away before he walked back to Sam's booth. He had just settled back in his chair, when Gabriel popped out of the back of his catering van carrying a large covered tray.

"You should just go say hi to him." He said as he walked past, before he began humming.

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, wishing he could prop his boots up on the edge of the table, but last time Sam had given him a lecture about professionalism. Dean really thought Sam should go give Castiel the professionalism speech since the guy showed up looking like he hadn't combed his hair in days and sometimes walked around barefoot.

"Duh, it's only totally obvious that you've been staring at my baby bro every time your here. I know you didn't suddenly develop a raging desire to sell hair products." Gabe slid the wrapped loaves of cinnamon bread, pumpkin bread, zucchini bread, cranberry orange bread and apple cake onto the racks behind his table. After he was done, he clapped his hands together, and turned back to Dean. "Just go say hi to him. But be prepared. Cas has no filter between his brain and his mouth."

Dean shot a glare at Gabe with a wry twist of his mouth and a quirked eyebrow, "I wonder where he got that from?"

Gabe just smirked and climbed back into the catering van.

XXXX

Later, when Gabe was busy with the early lunch rush and Sam was busy writing labels on a new box of stock he was putting out, Dean hauled himself out of his chair and nonchalantly walked across the rows to the honey booth. Castiel was sitting in the shade of his booth's awning, sprawled in a lawnchair with frayed lattice, reading a worn paperback.

Dean pursed his lips and pretended to peruse the rows of honey varieties. Every few moments he would sneak a glance at Castiel, who seemed to be either ignoring him or totally engrossed in his book. Finally, Dean cleared his throat and approached the other man. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say a word, Castiel held up his index finger and continued to read.

After glancing around to make sure no one was watching the exchange, Dean waited in astonishment as Castiel continued to read. Eventually, the other man came to the end of the page and placed a ragged bookmark between the pages, before carefully laying it on the table.

"Can I help you?" He asked with an expectant look on his face.

Dean glanced at the book's cover quickly before responding. "Uhhhh..." He shook his head dumbly, at a loss because this is not the way he thought this conversation was going to go. "Are you reading The Princess Bride?" He finally asked.

Castiel raised his eyebrows and leaned back in the chair, causing the two front legs to hover of the ground. He crossed his arms over his chest and answered sardonically, "It would appear that way."

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, completely devoid of any of his usual flirting skills. "Isn't that a kids' book?"

Castiel narrowed his eyes. Dean tried not to get distracted by the way the bright blue of his eyes and his dark hair complemented the end of summer tan that was causing his skin to practically glow in the early wash of golden Autumn light.

"Did you have a reason for coming over here?" Castiel asked.

"I guess not?" Dean answered questioningly before turning around and walking back over to Sam's booth.

Gabriel was watching him walk back over with a smirk on his face. "What happened, Dean? Did you get shot down?"

"Fuck you, Gabe." He shot back.

"What the hell did you say to Cas anyway? He looked pissed." The smaller man asked.

"I think I insulted his book choice..." Dean answered, looking Gabe's way hopefully.

Gabe made a hissing noise through his teeth as he shook his head, "No Bueno, my friend. Cassie's pretty weird about his books."

Dean gestures helplessly with his hands and he sank back into his chair, "I don't even know what happened." He said helplessly. "It's like all of my game deserted me."

Sam snorted off to the side, still rummaging through boxes, "Maybe it's because you refer to to yourself as 'having game,' asshole."

Dean gloomily sat back in the chair and looked across to the other booth, where Cas had returned to reading his book. He looked up and caught Dean watching him and raised an unimpressed eyebrow, before slowly dampening the tip of his finger with his tongue and turning the page, all without ever breaking eye contact.

Dean may or may not have blushed.


End file.
